Nerini's Quest
by Adrina
Summary: Nerini's family is taken from her by trollocs at a very young age. She sets out to avenge them, to defeat the heart of evil. Set during the Trolloc Wars. Please R&R! Rated R for later chapters. may turn NC-17. Depends on the reviews.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Eighteen years ago, a small child was born during a time latter called The Trolloc Wars. This child was then named Nerini. Her childhood was spent running, always fleeing the forces of evil. At the age of ten, her family was taken from her by trollocs, large, half-human half-animal beasts, to be used for fodder. Nerini ran off, and was found by her cities' army. Grief-stricken and full of the need for revenge, she learned how to use all weapons available to her. Most especially, the sword. For five years she stayed with the army, battling darkfriends as the chances arose, until her 16th birthday. On that day her teacher in the sword art told her that he could teach her no more, and that she had already reached the level of a blademaster. Nerini could see no reason to stay with the army, for she had made no friends, and decided to leave. Upon hearing this news, her commander gave her 200 men to take north and fight with her. Also, her teacher in the sword art presented her with a heron-marked blade, a sign of a blademaster, one that would never break and would never need sharpening. She named it Deathsong. As soon as the rest of the preparations were finished, Nerini and 200 cavalry left. She had plans to find the heart of all this evil and destroy it, even if it took her life and all the men's lives that she held too. Their encounters grew more and more frequent the more northward they traveled.  
  
  
  
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	2. Northward

To the North!  
  
Hidden amongst the bushes that lined the side of the road, Nerini watched a group of more than 2 dozen trollocs that she had been following for days. Raising her special whistle to her lips, she blew two short, two long, then two short blasts. Gripping Deathsong, she rushed towards the surprised trollocs. Around her, 40 soldiers emerged from hiding and ran to do battle. Then they hit the trollocs like a tidal wave.  
  
Flowing smoothly from trolloc to trolloc, Deathsong singing her own tune, she cut down every half-animal shape she came near. Wetness trickled down her face unheeded- she always cried when she battled. Suddenly, Nerini was face to face with a Myrddraal. Her blood chilled, shivers running down her spine. The look of the eyeless is fear- that was a Myrddraal's first defense. With a roar, she lunged towards it.  
  
Mother. Father. Adrina. She had time for that one thought before Deathsong met the Shadowspawns blade with a shower of blue sparks. The Myrddraal flowed from stance to stance with a boneless grace, black cloak hanging behind it perfectly still no matter how much the wearer moved. Yet, no matter how fast the creature moved, it was no match for Nerini. As Nerini's sword stroke detached its sword arm from the body, and her second swipe severed the eyeless' head from the neck. Even then, the Myrddraal thrashed; even when you killed one, it refused to admit it was dead for a full day.  
  
"Blood and bloody ashes." Just then, Nerini became aware of area around her. Bodies were strewn across the ground, but not all were trollocs. Hantain, her Second in Command, limped up.  
  
Wearily he saluted her with his sword. "34 trollocs dead." Looking behind her, he added, "And one Myrddraal." Nerini didn't even blink. Used to her attitude, he continued. "All but 5 men have injuries, and 6 were cut down." Hantain waited.  
  
Nerini sighed and rubbed her temples. Would this never cease? No, she told herself firmly. Not until I defeat the person who sent the shadowspawn and avenge my family and all other defenseless people. "Go tend the wounded. We'll camp in that clearing back about a mile." Hantain nodded and left, calling out orders as he went.  
  
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At camp, when smells of rabbit meat still lingered in the air, a scout ran in from the north. Blood covered the side of his face, and his right arm was hanging limply by his side. Immediately he was taken to a healer's tent to get stitched up, while somebody ran to go fetch a person of authority.  
  
It was Maduran, Nerini's Captain of her troops, who came. It was also him who first noticed the wounded messenger was trying to say something.  
  
Maduran turned on the men gathered around the sickbed. "Get out! Now!" The 10 odd soldiers scrambled hastily for the tent doorway. Once out, Maduran got up and closed the tent flap in the faces of the men gathered there. Resuming his seat by the young man, he leaned in close to hear the message.  
  
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The soldiers clustered around the tent were startled when Maduran strode out of the tent suddenly, his face twisted in some weird way. If some men hadn't known him better, they would've sworn that look was one of fear.  
  
Maduran was scared. He had just heard a message meant for his Lady Commander, and it scared him shitless.  
  
"Beten! Go get Nerini! Don't ask questions, go!" Beten didn't even bother to salute before taking off at a dead run towards Nerini's tents. Maduran noticed the rest of his command looking at him strangely. Not in a mood to deal with this, he snapped out at them, "Go to your tents or I'll give you work to do!" Each man left hurriedly. They had never seen this side of their Captain, and they didn't want to know what he might do like this.  
  
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Nerini arrived a moment later, sliding to a stop panting. "What is it, Maduran?" she asked quickly.  
  
Maduran motioned shortly to the tent behind him. "This man has something you may just want to hear." Nerini nodded and entered.  
  
Sitting down next to the man, Nerini leaned in close to listen to what the messenger had to say. Several seconds later, she stood up quietly and addressed Maduran without taking her piercing green eyes off the man. "Captain, gather the troops for battle. We have flaming several bloody hundred trollocs heading this way, with a bloody male Aes Sedai bloody leading them. This flaming valley has five hours at best before it is submerged in bloody trollocs and dreadlords. Go!" Maduran bolted.  
  
Nerini looked down on the body, lost in thought. She had lots of planning to do before those shadowspawn overwhelmed. She didn't know how she could possibly over come them, with only 200 men at her back. The male Aes Sedai could beat them alone. There is one way to beat them, a voice in her head taunted her. You could beat them alone, except for maybe the male channeler. She shook her head firmly. No, she told it firmly. I will not reveal to them what I really am. They would lose all faith in me, and then, for the rest of the trip they would stay only because of their oaths to me.  
  
Nerini thought a bit more, and then sighed. It's the only way. I have to do this. Stepping out of the tent, she went in search of Hatain.  
  
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	3. Preparations

Preparation  
  
  
  
Nerini strode through camp, stopping a young officer. "Where is Hatain?" She questioned him in a cold voice. The young man looked half ready to wet himself, half ready to leap up and fight. No, to defend himself, not fight. He gripped his sword hilt, as though it was is only savior. No, young man. That sword will not be your savior, but your destroyer. It always is. Nerini frowned. She hated it when things just popped into her head all of a sudden.  
  
The officer stammered out an answer quickly. "Hatain is in his tent, Commander." Nerini let go of a shoulder she had not remembered grabbing. She strode off without a word of thanks, leaving him staring after her wide- eyed in bewilderment and rubbing a sore shoulder.  
  
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Hatain finished sharpening a small dagger with a grin. His smile quickly turned to a grimace as he remembered the day that he had been given the task of watching Nerini for his master, Rahvin. He still couldn't believe one of the Chosen had chosen him! Of course, there was still the more pressing matter of what had happened a few days ago.  
  
When Hatain had ducked inside his tent, he was surprised to see a young woman sitting on his bed. After studying him for a moment, she spoke. "Rahvin sent me to tell you that you have three days in which to kill the girl Nerini. If you haven't by then, you will be swept up by a Myrddraal and company. If you have, you will have the honor of leading them in battle against the pitiful forces of Nerini's company." With that, she vanished. Hatain shook his head. That couldn't have been… no, that was NOT the Amyrlin Seat. Hatain laughed shortly and stood to go find his best dagger.  
  
Hatain shook his head and tucked the dagger up his sleeve. As soon as he did, Nerini swept in. Oh, what luck! This was going to be as easy as one- two-three!  
  
Nerini's eyes passed unconcernedly over Hatain's tent. She sighed. "I supposed you don't know about the 300 or so shadowspawn that are heading this way. They are led by a Dreadlord." Hatain's eye's bulged.  
  
"What?!?! They said that I had three days!" He growled deep in his throat. "This is all YOUR fault, Nerini al'Tangran! I will see you dead for it!" Without warning he lunged, dagger bared, straight for Nerini's throat.  
  
Nerini only had time for one startled moment before she gripped her sword, pulled is smoothly from its sheath, and did the form Heron Wading Through the Rushes. Balanced on the balls of her feet, she pivoted in a half-circle, swinging the blade low, then cutting upward, splitting Hatain's head in half.  
  
Hatain didn't stop moving though. His dagger brushed her face as she stepped back to avoid it. He dropped to the floor, the carpets seeping up his blood. Nerini stood for a moment, looking down on her second-in- commands body. Suddenly she felt like laughing. This was too ironic.  
  
Ducking out of the tent, Nerini shaded her eyes against the bright glare. As she did so, Maduran walked up to her, noticing how her blade was bare and covered with blood. "What happened Commander?" He asked worriedly.  
  
Dimly, Nerini looked him over. "You are now promoted to second-in- command, Officer." She informed him. "And get someone to clean up the mess in there." Striding off, Nerini allowed a small chuckle to escape her at Maduran's dumbfounded expression. "Oh, and come to my tent as soon as you are finished here." Nerini called back over her shoulder.  
  
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Maduran finished quickly. Arriving at Nerini's tent in less then 10 minutes, he ducked inside without waiting to announce himself and found Nerini bent over a hastily drawn map of their surroundings. He positioned himself on the opposite side and studied how she had placed her troops.  
  
Without looking up, Nerini spoke. "What do you think of this bloody situation, Captain?" Maduran shrugged.  
  
"Not a bad idea. Except, the troop of 50 soldiers hidden at the edge of the clearing? I'd put some backup there. I wouldn't put it past the bloody shadowspawn to circle around us and flaming come from the back." Maduran shifted uncomfortably as Nerini's piercing stare was transferred from the map to him. Slowly, as though confirming something to herself, she nodded. "But…" Maduran trailed off. Nerini raised an eyebrow when he didn't continue. "What about the Dreadlord? We'd need at least five Aes Sedai to beat him! Or another bloody man who could channel! We might- might!- be able to beat the trollocs and Myrddraal alone, but this!" Maduran shook his head. "We won't live long enough to spit one trolloc!"  
  
Nerini steeled herself. It had come to this. She had known it would, but had refused to admit the truth. "Hat- No, Maduran, You may not believe this, but I can channel. Not saidar, but saidin. I will take care of the Dreadlord while you and the rest of the men take care of the trollocs." Nerini lowered her head. This was no time to cry! She had a battle to win. It was just… She liked these men, with a few exceptions, but all in all, she felt like these men were the family she never- almost- had. She had worked hard to make these men trust her, respect her, and now look where it had gotten her. In a trap that would most likely kill four in every five men. This is how she repaid trust and respect. To her immense shame, she felt her control slipping and wetness trailing down her cheeks.  
  
Maduran stared, unbelieving, at what Nerini had just revealed. He had also stared when he saw her cheeks glisten. For the first time in all his time with Nerini, he saw a girl no older than eighteen, who led men in battle, and needed comfort in a time of crisis. Hesitantly, Maduran put his arms carefully around her shoulders and pulled her small body against his.  
  
Nerini didn't struggle when she felt her body enveloped by a pair of strong arms, nor did she resist when they pulled her against a warm surface. For the first time in Nerini's life, she felt safe, like nothing could hurt her, and that if anything tried to, her protector would drive it away. Blinking away more tears, she looked up into Maduran's face, then lowering her head in shame again.  
  
Maduran felt pangs of pity when Nerini looked up at him, then almost instantly transferred her gaze to the floor. "Nerini… why are you crying?" Stupid question, stupid question! But, it was just that when Nerini had looked at him with her large green eyes, he had felt the weirdest feelings stir within him. He felt that he had to comfort whatever was making her cry.  
  
Nerini never looked at him again, but her story spilled out of her. "I… I have worked so hard to gain everybody's trust and respect… and now, at the very least the trust I've worked so hard to gain is going to go out the window when they find out I can channel! It's not fair!" She burst out, new sobs silently racking her body.  
  
Well now. Maduran could certainly understand how much she valued the men's trust. At first, they had talked behind her back on how young she was, and that some men were old enough to be her grandfather. He had watched as Nerini had proven herself, bit-by-bit, to the men during battles as well as off the field.  
  
Unconsciously stroking Nerini's soft golden hair, Maduran mulled over the problem at hand. Suddenly he paused, a fiendish grin tugging at the corners of his normally solemn mouth. "Nerini, you won't loose the men's trust or respect! You have already proven yourself to them! They'll accept you as you are. Even though you can channel saidin!" Nerini sniffed a few times, rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, and looked up at him again.  
  
"How?" She asked suspiciously, staring at him with a mixture of suspicion and hope.  
  
Maduran sighed as if explaining it to a child who had already been told how to do it once. Nerini got this mad look on her face, and he smothered a grin. "Like I said before. They already trust you, and will continue doing so until you prove that their trust has been placed wrongly." Nerini sighed with relief and looked at him with such hope that he wanted to kiss her. …Wait. Where the heck did that come from?! He did NOT like her. He was just merely comforting her. That's all he was doing.  
  
Nerini, unaware of what she had caused, asked a trifle breathlessly, "You really think so?" It twisted Maduran's heart to see his Lady Commander like this.  
  
"I know so." He reassured her. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Beten, a scout, ran in the tent.  
  
Beten stopped dead at the sight before him. Nerini pushed Maduran away and stood up straight. Beten was surprised to notice tear stains on her cheeks.  
  
Nerini glared at him. She was in no mood to deal with speculation amongst her troops. "Well? Report!" She snapped at him.  
  
Beten jumped. "Commander, we have trollocs and about a hundred Myrddraal heading this way." He frowned as Nerini nodded to herself like this was old news.  
  
"Maduran! Go inform the troops of their assigned positions and tell them NOT to move until I have the Dreadlord under control! It shouldn't take that long, and then I'll be able to help you with the goat-kissing trollocs! Now!" Maduran bolted out of the tent, shouting orders as he went. "Beten, you may go. Oh, and don't forget your weapons. And get the rest of the scouts back in. We'll need them before this night is over." Beten saluted and turned to go. Just as he was about to exit, he heard Nerini's last order to him. "And don't you dare breathe a word to anyone about what you have seen!" Beten was wearing a grin as he finally exited.  
  
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HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! So! What's going to happen to Nerini? Her troops? Maduran? Well, unless you review, you ain't gonna find out! I know, I am evil, but hey, aren't most authors? Oh, and I will try to get these chapters longer! I promise I will! Just have patience! 


	4. The Storm

The Storm Breaks  
  
  
  
Nerini stood at the edge of camp, going over it one more time to make sure no one could be seen. As she was doing so, Maduran strode up, leading 20 hard men, whose faces all bore scars from previous battles. Nerini didn't take her eyes off the surroundings when they approached. Yet as they stopped 10 paces away from her, she spoke as if to herself. "I wonder why 20 good men who are supposed to be at their posts are here with my newly made second-in-command. If they are still here by the time I count to 20- one second for each of them, then some heads WILL be rolling. One." Maduran spoke hastily.  
  
"Commander, these men volunteered personally to guard your back against the trollocs and Myrddraal when you are busy with the Dreadlord." Nerini didn't stop, or even slow down. "Nerini, they would trust you with their souls!" And yet again Nerini didn't even slow down. Maduran sighed. "Nerini, they respect you more than the creator himself." His commander faltered, then steadied. Maduran was getting tired of this. He grabbed Nerini roughly by the shoulders and spun her so she faced him. "Nerini. I love you, and if anything at all happened to you that I could've prevented, then I'd hate myself for eternity."  
  
In the silence that followed, you could have heard a pin drop. It was also how Nerini heard the 300 or so shadowspawn that were approaching with speed that was not human. That was what snapped Nerini out of her stupor. "Fine! Go! We have 10 minutes until blood covers everything in this clearing, up to the tops of the trees themselves! GO!"  
  
Maduran wasted no time in gloating over his victory. "Jimmy! Take 9 others and arrange yourselves as a fence to this ridge! The other 10, get out your bows! Paul! You head them!" Paul and Jimmy nodded and were soon situated at their assigned posts. Maduran walked up behind Nerini, grabbed her and spun her around gently. "Nerini… Just in case I don't survive, I just wanted to give you this." Leaning down, Maduran kissed Nerini deeply, despite her voilent protestings.  
  
Nerini soon lost herself in the kiss, and regretted it when Maduran pulled away. Regret shone in his eyes too. Slapping herself mentally, Nerini reminded herself of what was heading right towards them. Grabbing her special whistle that was always around her neck, Nerini blew one long blast, followed by two short ones, signaling they had about four minutes until the Dreadlord and his followers arrived. She dropped down when several echoes met her. Grasping Deathsong by the hilt, she settled down to wait.  
  
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Nerini didn't have to wait long. No longer than 3 minutes passed than when the first trollocs came bellowing into camp. After rooting the tents, they stopped, surprised that no one was there. Nerini chuckled quietly in the back of her mind. /So they didn't know a person got away after their last attack, did they? Good./ After about a fourth of the Lurks charged into camp, the shadowspawn found arrows numbering in the hundreds raining down upon them.  
  
Yelling in surprise, sharp screams of the wounded, and groans from the dieing arose from the trollocs. Many dark clad shapes that were a pincushion of arrows still thrashed. All in all, only about an eigth of the former 150 trollocs survived. It was then Nerini spotted the Dreadlord.  
  
He was standing unconcernedly at the edge of camp, content to wait so he could have a clear view of his enemy. He wore a dark green coat of silk, and from this distance looked to be some lord or other. Nerini snarled. Grabbing saidin was difficult, and the taint made Nerini want to sick up. But now she could see every blade of grass, every leaf on the trees. Hell, she could even see the tiny mail plates that made up trolloc armor! Nerini focused on the Dreadlord. Weaving spirit into a huge… wedge, she jammed it between him and saidin. Binding him in flows of air, she tied off both weaves. Turning to the battle she didn't remember having started, Nerini wove flows of fire and air. A bubble encased a third of the Myrddraal there, and fire erupted within each one. Each air bubble squeezed itself until it popped, and the Myrddraal.  
  
The trollocs kept on fighting. Nerini cursed. Trust the shadowspawn to not have tied their trollocs to the Myrddraal! The Dreadlord must have been enough to keep them in line. Nerini could barely do one more weave. Grabbing Deathsong hard at the hilt, she wove a huge flow of fire. A bar of white lept from her hands, vanishing as soon as it touched a trolloc or Fade, only to reappear again to cut down more.  
  
Nerini could not see, hear, or remember anything except that she must hold onto this weave. Sometimes, a trolloc or Myrddraal would be too tangled up with a human to tell the difference. The human went with the shadow creatures. Soon Nerini dropped the weave from exhaustion. Letting saidin go was more like pushing it away. She stood up, and her legs trembled. She firmed them unconsciously and turned around to go help her troops. She found herself face to face with a Fade. She had time for one startled yelp before a blade slashed through it's belly and cut up, effiectively splitting it in half. Maduran pulled his blade free and rushed over to her.  
  
"Nerini! What's wrong?" Nerini looked at him through eyes slightly glazed. Maduran growled at her. "How can I help if you won't tell me?" She just shook her head.  
  
"I cannot… channel any… more… I am… sorry…" Nerini finally let darkness take her and sank into oblivion.  
  
  
  
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Okay, sorry that was so short but I have not had any time to work on it. Review! Oh, and I won't put up the next chapter until I have at least 10 reviews. Otherwise I'll discontinue the fic. 


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